A Pretty Picture
by Lexie Jayne
Summary: Max was Max, and for the first nine years of her life, Jondy had been in Max’s shadow, the gratuitous best friend and girl next door in the sitcom that was their life. Situation comedy; that’s exactly what his life felt like some days." (JZ) (Complete)
1. Sitcom Life

**Author's Notes: **I am utterly positive some people think I've ditched the DA scene. Never the case. I just keep getting bogged down with school work, and my fics tend to be the thing that takes a back seat. I've been working on this story since the end of December and I've finally finished it. You don't know how good this feels.

Just to reassure everyone, I have two more standalones slated - "Games People Play" in a dark Jondy fic and "The Beach" is for Jondy/Zack fans. And if there's any X5 ship you'd like to see more fic on, I'll certainly give almost anyone a try.

So, I hope you like this one, because I enjoyed writing it. Please read and review, I like to know people still read my writing :)

* * *

He was bending over the engine of an old Mercedes. One of the guys at the garage had found the burnt shell parked in some alley way a few blocks away. It had been Tony. There were five guys working at Hal's Garage – Tony, Mickey, Liam and Zane, plus Hal. Hal was a sixty year old guy who had started the garage 'back in the day'.

Now he had the four younger guys working for him, while he sat on a stool outside, and alternately drank beer and ate hamburgers from the take away shop on the corner, and read car magazines featuring women sprawled across Ferrari hoods in bikinis.

Zane genuinely liked working on the garage. The other guys were his best friends in L.A. Tony was second generation Italian, and was married to a volatile woman named Josie and had a three year old son named Antonio whom Tony often brought into work during the mornings, so Josie could sleep late or do 'girly' things.

Antonio – Ant, as Tony called his son – would toddle around the garage and babble unstoppably at all the guys. Then Josie would come down to the garage, lecture Tony in Italian and grab Ant. Tony would laugh, a cold beer in one hand and Ant's backpack in the other hand.

Then there was Mickey; a burly thirty year old who said little but chain smoked cigarettes and specialised in motorcycles. Mickey was the man who hired the strippers and bought the first round of beer after work.

Liam was the youngest – Zane was twenty two and Liam was nineteen, but Liam behaved like a little kid and looked like one, all awkward and lanky and eager to please. He dribbled over their girlfriends and was caught reading Mickey's dirty magazines during his lunch break and actually looked guilty.

Zane wiped his hands on his jeans, leaning back. He'd spent a whole month rebuilding the engine and now it wasn't working. Liam was meant to be started on the body in a few days; they already had a buyer and a strict time frame to prepare the Mercedes in.

"Take a break," Hal called out from his stool, his dog Miffy sitting beside him. "Get some lunch."

Zane nodded, tossing his tools to the pavement and slipped into the cooler garage. Once, it had been two shop fronts. Now, it was a garage that could fit three cars, a tiny office and a tiny kitchenette that held a fridge, stove, a black and white television and a radio.

Zane grabbed a soda from the fridge, tugging off the top part of his orange coveralls. And then he walked up the street to the dimly lit take away shop. Liam, Mickey and Tony were sitting at a plastic table, wolfing down their unidentifiable lunches. It was the same choices every day – a burger, pizza, curry or kebabs. The burger, curry and kebabs were all made of the same meat. Zane ate most of his meals with these three men, and at this shop.

A Styrofoam cup of coffee and a few slices of pizza that tasted like wet cardboard. Then back to work until five, grab dinner – usually a kebab and hopefully some salad – and back to his apartment with his dog, Millie. Millie lived in the yard below his apartment building. She was still a puppy and preferred playing with her toys in the leafy yard than rolling around the garage.

This was Zane's life. Fifteen bucks an hour, which was pretty good for Post-Pulse. Zane earned his monthly rent in one and a half weeks. His girlfriends were usually blonde types who hadn't made it through high school and towered over him in cheap stilettos.

There wasn't one at the moment, and Zane went home to his apartment every night and he was lonely. Millie was the best company a guy could have sans… well, a human girl would have been the best company a guy could have, because there are just some things you don't do with a puppy.

Don't go there.

Zane feeds most of his dinner to Millie and gazes dumbly at the television for hours until he realises it's no longer night but obscenely early morning. And he tugs off his jeans and t shirt, collapsing on top of the covers of his bed, sleeping like the dead. In theory, Millie is meant to sleep on a pile of blankets next to the television, but in practice, she sleeps at Zane's feet on the bed.

He's second at the garage that morning, gazing up at the sun beating down. Hal lives in some seedy apartments across the street and is always the one to open the place up. It's only a few minutes past eight and already there is a beer in Hal's hand, beads of condensation making their bid for freedom.

Zane downed a bowl of non-descript cereal before he left, with milk. The milk keeps the seizures away and is probably the healthiest meal of his day; the cereal is brown and grain like and declares that it is sugar free and all natural. Hal cooks bacon, eggs and hash browns in the small kitchenette, the frying pan full of oil. Zane's enhanced sense of smell revolts against Hal's 'cooking'. Liam and Mickey will eat the breakfast Hal cooks. Zane wouldn't even feed Miffy a bite of the sloppy oil-filled hash browns.

He's already working on the Mercedes when Liam, Tony and Mickey arrive. They tease him because he's always the first one there in the morning and the last one to leave at night. For Tony, work is a place he has to be – he likes his job but it's something that has to be done. He has a loving wife and a son he worships; a place he'd rather be. Mickey had a girlfriend waiting at home; Debbie, Donna, Dana… Zane's met her once. She wasn't the sort of woman Zane would pair Mickey with. She had short dark hair and wore glasses and was studying gender relations at UCLA.

So, Mickey had a life, too.

Liam lived with two other guys and their grandmother. He spent his time in clubs, trying to pick up girls, or at the parks, racing his BMX bike. He had friends and a life. And even parents and a sister who wanted him to move back home.

Zane never bothered to forge close enough friendships with these guys to warrant spending much time outside of hours with them. He liked them, and got a long with them, and Josie might invite him to dinner because she worried he had no girlfriend to look after him, but he was ultimately alone. Friends had never been an important part of the equation for him, simply because Zack moved him around so much.

Liam and Mickey dug into paper plates of food that Hal brought that out, and they sit in deckchairs outside the garage, wolfing down the food and washing the taste of oil and grease away with cold beer. Josie is hurrying down the street, Ant on her hip, calling out to Tony in Italian.

Zane always smiles when he sees Josie; her long black curly hair pinned away from her face, her bright green eyes almost swallowing her face and her gauzy skirts tangling around her legs. She always wore big hoop earrings, and a selection of necklaces and rings. Her nails are short and painted with deep purple lacquer and she wears a spicy perfume that Zane doesn't really care for when he considers it, but its Josie signature.

"Tony! Lei va e parte per il lavoro senza me partendo anche del denaro di drogheria? Non niente e per me pagare la lavoratore di cura dell'infanzia di bambino con? Che ho fatto per meritare tale trascuratezza?"

"_Tony! You go and leave for work without even leaving me some grocery money? And nothing for me to pay the baby sitter with? What did I do to deserve such carelessness?" _

Zane doesn't know Italian. Italy wasn't exactly on Manticore's list of Evil Countries to Infiltrate. Zane wasn't all that great in Intelligence. Much better at Telecommunications and Information Technology. He vaguely recollects long lessons in German, but doesn't recall enough to say he speaks German. It wouldn't really be speaking German anyway, just parroting a bunch of military phrases.

He knows a little Italian now. Tony taught him a few phrases when he met Josie. And both Tony and Josie decided Ant would be raised speaking Italian as a first language, and all the guys at the garage make an effort to parrot Tony's phrases to the kid. They like hearing a three year old babbling in Italian; Hal says it gives them culture. Zane likes it because he can almost pretend Ant is Krit – all dark hair and dark eyes – rambling away to Syl. Syl was hopeless at languages; Krit spoke Spanish at age three.

Today, Ant runs up to Zane and points to the Mercedes. **"**L'automobile è morta - perché?**" **_Why is that car dead? _

Zane looks at the kid, and realises Italian sounds nothing like Spanish. More like French. Jondy spoke French. So did Eva. Syl was meant to, but was utterly hopeless at it. Krit used to talk to Syl in Spanish and Jondy used to whisper the replies to Syl in French. And Syl would repeat them, accent perfect, to Krit.

"Era vecchio**,"** Zane replies with a terrible Italian accent. _"It was old."_ Tony smothers a laugh at Zane's 'murder of the most beautiful language'. Josie hits Tony upside the head and tells Zane that she didn't know he spoke any Italian.

"I don't," Zane says, shrugging, switching back to English.

Josie shakes her head. And before she replies, Miffy starts to back. And a red Ducatti motorcycle pulls up.

In this part of the city, the cars and motorcycles are second, third or even forth-hand. Zane's fixed up cars that would be better served as scrap metal. Motorcycles are a rare commodity because they are stolen right off the street. His own blue Honda is locked up in the garden shed, because he couldn't bear to lose it.

Liam is practically dribbling as the undeniably female figure climbs off the bike. She's wearing pink tinted glasses rather than a helmet. Straight dark hair frames her face and she's wearing low slung jeans and a red t shirt that clings, with a V neck. The t shirt says something in clear black letters but Zane's not looking at her chest. It's her face he's focusing on.

Bright blue eyes, her lips smeared in scented pink lip gloss that Zane can smell from where he stands. Dark eyeliner makes her eyes seems brighter. Three silver earrings line both her ears. He looks her up and down, trying to confirm his suspicions; his hopes. One wrist bares a worn man's watch; it's too big for her. The other, at least two dozen fine silver bracelets, and her nails are painted red. On her feet are black combat boots, dotted with White-Out daisies.

He knows he's got a stupid expression on his face, but Zane can only hope it's not as stupid as the look on Liam's face. They're both hopeless. Zane can hear his heart pounding. He hopes he is wrong, that this is just another ditz he can drag home for a night or three. That the elegance she somehow emulates is a false air.

Zane's seen Tinga and Brin. He recalls their confidence easily, the grace with which they walked. This girl before him radiates that same confidence - the same grace and perfect balance. His hope is fading fast. This isn't some girl off the street. Why do the ones who are always so utterly perfect for him end up being the ones who couldn't be more wrong?

She's looking at him and so are his workmates – and Josie. Ant's little hand grips Zane's orange coveralls as she approaches.

"Zane?"

She looks unsure of herself and she stops in front of him, looking uncertain.

Jondy didn't know why she came. After leaving San Francisco in light of Eyes Only's message, L.A. seemed like a practical place to be. She'd caught wind of a guy selling tryptophan, and he'd mentioned he also supplied another guy, a little older than she was. The dude selling her the pills had mentioned his other customer worked in a garage and had a German Shepard puppy.

"_Zane went out and bought himself a god-damned dog. A German Shepard, for Christ's sake…" _

She could still remember Zack's angry words when she asked about the others. And she could still recall ten year old Zane hunched over some mechanical device a few benches away. He'd always be the first one to solve any mechanical problem.

A few fifty dollar bills and the pill guy even gave her a street address for his apartment. Some lady had gotten tired of Jondy sitting on the front stoop of the building and sent her to "an old garage opposite an apartment building. Just a block or so away."

And when she pulled up, she didn't know what to expect. Maybe she was chasing ghosts? Her mind told her to get the hell out of L.A. and head to Miami for the summer. She wouldn't let herself consider what would happen if this guy was actually her big brother Zane.

As she got off her motorcycle, she felt eyes on her. Five men in varying age groups, a little boy not more than four who was clinging to one of the guy's pants and a wary looking woman standing close enough to the boy that he was protected. The woman had amazing hair and wore a long skirt with an infinite number of colours – pink, purple, orange, jade, black… for a second, Jondy wished she wore skirts just so she could have one like that.

She scanned the five men in an instant. Two of them are way too old to be Zane. One is too skinny and just not 'Manticore'. He's gazing at her like she's some sort of gift.

The last two men take her a little time to consider. One wears a wife beater and grimy jeans, his skin is olive coloured – the colour you are born with rather than achieve in the sun. He has curly black hair and he might just be a little old, a little worn, not quite as perfect as an X5 would be.

The final one was the one standing in front of a shell of a car, with the child clinging to his pants. He had dark – almost black – hair falling into his green eyes. He's got a honey coloured glow from working in the sun, and wears a worn steel watch and a string around one wrist. He's staring at her hard. An orange coverall suit stoped her from looking any further downward.

It has to be him. Maybe it's the way he's standing; no one else would know he has utterly perfect balance. The way he's watching her. The way his cover alls fit his body.

"Zane?"

His face splits into a grin and his arms are around her, hugging her tight to him. Her thin, soft yet firm body pressing against his much harder, toned one against hers. She clung to him desperately for a few moments before pulling away.

"Jondy?" Max's name rested on the tip of his tongue. But no matter how much Max grew up, Zane could never picture her like this. Max was Max, and for the first nine years of her life, Jondy had been in Max's shadow, the gratuitous best friend and girl next door in the sitcom that was their life.

Situation comedy; that's exactly what his life felt like some days.

A beautiful smile broke out on Jondy's face. "I missed you," she said softly, very aware of the people watching them.

"I missed you too," He matched her smile easily. Her eyes were guarded but there was something there. Something other than the shadows they all had in their eyes. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and Zane resisted the urge to smooth it out.

_Excuse me, where exactly did that come from?_

"Are you going to introduce me?" Jondy teased likely. And it was like she'd never left.

The other guys liked her okay. Hal was standoffish; worried such a girl would mean no work would get done. But, to everyone's shock, Jondy took the offered shirt to cover her own clothes and helped Zane. He remembered her clearly back at Manticore, a screwdriver in one hand and some electronic device in the other and that thoughtful expression on her face. He saw the nine year old girl in her now, as she bent over the ignition, her delicate gloved hands following the wires carefully.

"You've done a good job," Jondy turned to smile at him. "Too good; it's so neat."

He remembered First Aid 101; the scientists would take half the group and cut them, collecting blood, and then the other half of the group would stitch them up. Zane remembered tears on Jace's face as Jondy efficiently stitched her arm up with stitches so neat they looked drawn on.

He remembered Jondy the nine year old stitching up his own forearm with a smile for him.

"I'm sure yours would be just as neat," Zane managed, bending over next to her.

"You better not look at my ride, then," she joked. "Just spit and luck that got me here."

"_Luck does not exist. Success depends on a well thought out plan executed with precision."_

They both heard it, but neither had said anything. Sometimes their ghosts were louder than normal. They both pretend the moment isn't awkward and continue messing with the car. Zane can see Liam gazing at Jondy from a few metres away; and Liam isn't looking at her face.

The day is long and hot, and Zane had never felt more relieved when they all make a move to the take away shop for lunch. It's not much cooler in the take away shop, sitting at a plastic table, but a noticeable difference. Today, as Zane shares pizza off a paper plate with Jondy, the food is fresh and hot and delicious. Well, let's not go that far. But it's the best meal of his life. Jondy laughing with the closest people to friends he has, the silver bracelets around her wrists making a sound like little bells every time she moves her arms.

The second half of the day was punctuated by Liam's horrible pick up lines directed at Jondy. Tony has hinted at Liam that he's making himself look like an idiot, and even Zane's tried to gently break it to him that Jondy's not his type. But Liam's star struck. The bad pick up lines tumble out of his mouth every time he claps eyes on Jondy.

Zane caught her laughing behind her hand at Liam's awkward attempts and Jondy eventually drags him away from the others. And they all cat call at Liam, as Jondy murmurs something in his ear. Zane can only pray that Jondy's telling Liam she's a lesbian, so he'll leave her the hell alone.

_Where is this coming from, you freak?_

"Are you and your friend coming to the bar with us?" Mickey asked, as they began to lock up the garage. "I'll buy the first round."

"I guess," Zane shrugged. Twenty seconds later, and Zane's wondering if it's such a great plan, taking Jondy to the bar they frequent. The beer is the cheapest in the area – ten a pitcher. But then, it's only cheap American beer. Zane would give ten years of his life for an ice cold Canadian beer. He just doesn't have thirty dollars to spend on one.

And the girls that frequent those bars. They aren't exactly the sort of crowd Zane would expect Jondy to mix with. Strippers, hookers, dancers… those are the sort of cliental the bar encourages. But he still took her along. They locked her bike up at the garage, so it won't be stolen.

The bar was in the basement, with a series of broken televisions playing constantly, whether it's some sort of sports, or an Eyes Only broadcast. A few people dance to the music playing from the stereo behind the bar. It's mainly dance music, even though no one goes to this bar to dance.

They sit around their usual table, Mickey ordering the first pitcher. Tony sloshes the beer into tall red paper cups and spills it. Jondy jokes and laughs along with them as they drink their second, third, fifth pitcher. She's the one helping Mickey bring plates of nachos over to the table, bowls of peanuts and even orders pink lemonade so she can have a bright red cherry.

He doesn't recognise the closeness he feels with Jondy, and she's shown no signs of feeling it. Her mouth is stained pink from the cherry as she drags Liam onto the dance floor. Zane's not game enough to dance in front of his work mates, and both Mickey and Tony are too drunk to dance with her. At least, that's what Zane thought Jondy thought.

But her hips are against Liam's, his arms looped tightly around her waist and Zane's betting Liam will keel over with a heart attack at any moment. Zane's always liked Liam; funny kid who generally had his heart in the right place. But watching his hand slide down Jondy's thigh, and Liam's flushed face; Zane just wants to break his legs. And his spine.

Zane's gulping down beer as he watches them dance, trying to dull the feelings with alcohol. Damn his genes for not letting him drink himself into a stupor. He looks up in time to see Jondy's lips against Liam's, begins to choke and its Mickey's hand against Zane's shoulder as Zane continues to cough and splutter.

_Liam! _No girl in the history of their 'friendship' has ever picked Liam over Zane. Liam's not ugly, but Zane is an X5. It just doesn't fit. Zane had never resented gawky Liam before now. But he's seriously considering disembowelling him

They leave the bar at two in the morning. Liam's detached himself from Jondy, and accepts a ride home from Tony cheerfully. Zane wordlessly gets on his motorcycle and isn't expecting Jondy to get on behind him; she probably wants to go home with Liam. But he feels her hands on his shoulders, her thighs pressing against his gently as she climbs on the back of the bike.

The apartment is full of stale air when they get back there. Millie wants her dinner and Zane's tense from seeing his little sister pressed up against his friend. Jondy tosses her bag on the couch and prowls around, examining his home before sidling into the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes.

_Give it up, man, you don't think of her as a little sister. You just want to throw her down and …_

Jondy showers quickly, changing into a pair of old boxers and a t shirt as Zane bangs around the kitchen, feeding his dog. She watched him carefully, perched on the couch, platting her hair. Zane's still sulking, even if he won't admit it, but he does notice her face scrubbed clean and her hair brushed shiny around her face. Silence reigns as Zane studies her face carefully, the night shadows playing over her features.

"Your friend Liam is cute," Jondy begins, with a playful smile on her face. Zane's glares and silence haven't been missed by her. Liam is the sort of boy she's never had a chance to like. Maybe in a different lifetime, he'd be the sort of boy who lived in the house next door and would take her to the prom. But she can't risk getting involved with a person as… soft as Liam. If Lydecker catches up with her, Liam wouldn't be able to lie for her. He'd cheerfully spill his guts – both literally and figuratively.

Zane's dark good looks are the sort of thing high school girls dream about; Jondy's dreamt about. Maybe she's more screwed up than she realised, eyeing her so-called brother up like this. But she's still looking for a place and a person to be with. Not settle, she can't ever settle. Happily ever now, that's what she's looking for. And if she can find it in a childhood companion who turned into tall, dark and handsome, well, she'll take it, thanks.

Doesn't mean she still doesn't want to torture him. Just a little. She's still his kid sister at heart. Sort of.

Zane looks at her sulkily, before muttering about a shower and going to bed. Jondy rolls her eyes and pats Millie's head as she hears the shower turn on. She pads around the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water before slipping into the bedroom.

She's tired. She's run from New York City to back ass Los Angeles. She's running from their dear brother Ben who clutched Jondy to him, blood running down her face, and begged her to stay with him. He pleaded with her to travel with him, killing the unworthy and trailing after Lydecker.

She had a blade tucked down the waistband of her jeans. A silver blade, about as big as her thumb, and an inch wide, she jabbed him in the stomach hard. She got him good too; he cried out and threw her against a wall. She lost the blade; it was still jammed in Ben's abdomen. Blood covered her hands as she ran. She'd never run so fast in her life, and it wasn't until two days later she stopped at some back ass diner to wash the blood off her hands and throw away her stained t shirt before running some more.

And now she's in Zane's soft bed, letting sleep take her. It's very soft and it smells just like him. Musty and safe. She hears him come in; sigh at the sight of her, curled up on one side, almost completely asleep. He climbs in next to her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face and sleeps himself. Millie curls up at their feet.

* * *

Please read and review! _As of March 16 I divided this story into three chapters rather than one long story. _


	2. He Got the Girl

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to Montana Magic who pointed out how this should be broken up; in my haste to upload something new I didn't consider length or anything.

So, this is 'nothing new', just the original divided up so it's easier to read. Reviews are always welcome and inspiring.

* * *

It's Zane's cell phone that wakes them both up the next morning, just past eight. Zane groggily answers the phone, his head jumbled from five hours of sleep, beer and too many thoughts. It's Hal on the other end, sorry about calling so early – they aren't meant till start until nine – but he's got a customer who needs a Beemer fixed up immediately. He's willing to pay whatever, as long as he can leave by six. He needs to see someone else in town. The others are on their way. When can Zane get down there?

He rolls out of bed, careful not to wake Jondy, and shrugs on cleaner clothes. He's just making coffee when Jondy comes out, running fingers through her hair. The silver bracelets are on her wrist made a soft noise, like tiny bells, as she moved.

"Morning," she grinned, taking a cup of coffee from him when he offered.

"Is it?" he joked, stirring one, three, five, six spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. And a liberal slosh of milk. "I've got an early job today, so…"

"It's cool," Jondy smiled. "I can make my own fun here. I can cook dinner for you tonight, even."

"You can cook?"

"I can cook."

"Not just toast?"

She made a face. "I can make pasta."

"Cool," Zane put his empty coffee mug in the sink, not believing a word she said. "I better go."

"See you tonight," Jondy smiled at him, her eyes unreadable, but for a second, Zane swore she was going to kiss him good bye.

_As if! _

The Beemer in question was a blinding silver colour with every car related gadget you could buy. The guy who owned it was young; only twenty or so, with green eyes that unnerved Zane and was almost creepy in his manner. He cryptically explained what was wrong with the Beemer because vanishing completely for the rest of the day.

The four men worked tirelessly on the car; testing the breaks and reconnecting the stereo system. They all joked the car was stolen. A large dark stain the size of a pizza box on the floor of the car suggested maybe the car had been through its far share of not-so-legal activities, but they didn't mention it. They got paid for fixing the car. Nothing else. And the guy came back at five minutes to six, paid Hal his exuberant fee (Liam declared two-sixty for a single day's work a damn good wage) and left in the offending car.

Zane dragged himself back to his apartment. Somehow, beers and greasy food just didn't appeal to him. The man's green eyes had unnerved him and going home to Jondy, whatever she had managed to 'cook', and Millie seemed far more appealing than another dark bar and a girl whose name he wouldn't remember at midnight.

The apartment was empty when he got home; both Millie and Jondy were gone. He collapsed onto the couch, closing his eyes. He was so tired of running. He wanted a girlfriend and a real life; not a life that felt like he was a stand-in.

He dragged himself into the kitchen, to get himself a beer. Getting good and properly drunk before passing out on his couch sounded good. Great, in fact.

"Zane?" Jondy bounced into the kitchen, Millie bounding after her. "Hey! You're home! I just took Millie out for a run." Her hair was in a long braid, bouncing against her back, a bag slung across her chest. "And I grabbed some food for dinner - I even found a chicken!" She reached into the bag and pulled out the skinned, raw bird, holding it up like a trophy. Zane started to laugh; Jondy, her hair flying, holding up a dead chicken and Millie, eyeing the chicken from the floor, her long pink tongue lolling.

"Great. So, what are you making me?" Zane peeled off his orange coveralls, revealing a black and grey t shirt and grungy jeans.

"Chicken and pasta," Jondy nodded once, decisively and slipped into the kitchen, pulling a plastic plate from the sink and putting the chicken on it. "I'll cook, you can shower – 'cause you smell really weird."

Zane nodded, still slightly dubious about Jondy's cooking skills. But when he emerged, smelling strongly of some disgusting floral shampoo that Jondy had bought, he was pleasantly surprised. The table was set with Zane's chipped plates and mismatched knives and forks. Jondy's hair was knotted on top of her head and there was a smear of tomato sauce across one cheek. She carried a bigger plate piled high with food and Zane was suddenly absolutely starving.

"You took way too long in that shower, I set the table myself," she said, placing the plate of chicken and pasta in the middle of the table with a flourish. "Do you want a beer?"

Zane nodded, taking a seat at once place, eyeing the food in front of him. He couldn't remember the last meal someone had cooked just for him. Jondy returned a few minutes later, carrying two bottles of beer and the end of a loaf of bread. She took a seat opposite him, handing him his beer, pulling out a slice of bread and spooning food onto her plate in what seemed like the same smooth motion.

Just as Zane was lifting his first mouthful to his lips, the lights flickered and went out. A moment of silence over took them both before Millie let out a mournful howl and raced into the room.

"Damnit," Zane put down his fork and looked up at the lights.

Jondy stood up. "Let me get some candles. Where are they?"

Zane ruffled Millie's fur. "I haven't been able to get any."

Jondy rolled her eyes and mumbled something that sounded like, 'Men'. "So, we're meant to eat in the dark?"

Zane stood up. "Grab your plate. It's not that dark outside yet." Zane walked onto the narrow balcony, taking a seat on the cool concrete. Jondy looked on bemused, her plate in one hand, as she watched Zane trying to keep Millie away from his food.

"Take a seat, Jon," Zane grinned. "Just watch Millie."

Jondy shook her head and sat next to him, crossing her legs.

"So, this is your life," she mused, lifting her beer to her lips.

"Yeah," Zane said non-committed, poking his food with his fork. "At least until Zack moves me again."

Jondy fed some bread to Millie. "It'll be awhile before he moves anyone. Zack's caught up at the moment," she said, frowning.

Zane looked at Jondy's drawn face for a second. "What's he been up to?"

Jondy shook her head and looked up, her expression once again sunny. "Just… it isn't anything important. Or interesting – tell me about what's been happening with you." Her slanted blue eyes focus on him and he'd like to get lost in them for awhile. They aren't the eyes of the little girl he left Manticore with all those years ago. The eyes of that little girl were big and sat wide and normally in her face. Now, they seem to arch up, more feline than ever.

"What happened to your eyes?" he murmured. "They didn't use to look like that."

Jondy laughed, throwing her head back so her hair tumbles down her back in long dark waves. "Make up, Zane. You can do anything with make up." And Zane leant over and wiped the edge of her tank top around her eyes and realised that it was. Just an illusion; there was a thick make up stain along the hem of her tank top, but she was the girl he left behind.

"You look better without it," Zane observed, leaning back. Jondy shrugged, pushing her empty plate closer to Millie, so the dog could lick it clean.

"I look different without it," she corrected. "I paint my face up and Lydecker could walk straight past me in the street."

"You aren't hiding from Lydecker," Zane sighed, draining his beer.

"No," she admitted, her hands buried in Millie's fur. "I'm not hiding from Lydecker." Zane watched Jondy's lips turn down in what could only be described as an expression of unhappiness.

"Are you hiding from Zack?" Zane asked softly. Jondy looked up, a lock of hair falling across her eyes.

"No. I'm biding my time until I find Zack," she said quietly and then smiled. "Don't ask, Zane. It's just easier. Now, talk to me. Have you got a girlfriend? Do you coach a basketball team on the weekends? Do you moonlight as a Catholic priest?"

He chuckled but couldn't help noticing that the first question she asked was if he had someone special.

"No girlfriend, no coaching and no moonlighting as anything," he grinned. "Do you have a boyfriend? Do you moonlight as a hooker? Do you baby sit in your spare time?"

Jondy shook her head, laughing. "Never ever; I hate small children." She leant closer to Zane. "Do I look like someone who tolerates crying, whining, spitting, yelling and…"

Before Zane could reply, a crack of thunder interrupted their thoughts and within seconds the rain came pouring down. Millie barked out at the sky, fluffy and grey, the rain pouring down like an iridescent sheet.

"It's raining," Jondy said, following Millie's gaze.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Zane joked, standing up. "We should get inside." The rain splashed onto the balcony, already soaking through the cuffs of Jondy's jeans. She hurled herself to her feet, leaning over the balcony.

"I love the rain," Jondy said and Zane watched the droplets run down her face and neck. "I lived in Sacramento for nine weeks last year and it didn't rain once. That's why I left."

Zane shook his head, leaning over the balcony railing with her. "Hasn't rained here in months; that's probably why the power went out."

Jondy nodded. "Remember when we were kids? And whenever it rained, we had to train inside? I hated that. They didn't let us train in the rain until just before …" she faltered.

Zane slung his arm around Jondy's shoulder. "Jon, it must be my cat genes, but I hate the rain. I'm going inside."

Jondy grabbed his arm. "What's so bad about it?"

Zane gave her a Look. "It's wet."

"Well, yeah, but that is outweighed by the good stuff," she said.

"Good stuff?" Zane repeated doubtfully.

"Yeah - Like the smell. It always smells nice after it rains," Jondy said. "And before it rains, even. All clean and fresh; and it makes everything look good."

Zane gave Jondy a sidelong look; her hair plastered to her face, her shirt plastered to her front and water dripping off of her onto the balcony.

"It does," he said in a low voice, and for a second he forgot whether or not he liked Jondy or he'd just been alone too long. As Jondy looked at him, with a bemused smile on her face, he slid his hand across her cheek and leant forward.

Her lipstick tasted cheap, with a scent of vanilla and Zane wished he'd wiped Jondy's lipstick off with her eye make up. Zane slid his fingers along her cheek and jaw, pausing when he found the indentation of a scar. He reached down and peeled her sodden tank top from her body, over her head and tossed in aside, leaving Jondy in nothing but a thin looking bra. She doesn't flinch as the cold rain hits her flesh, and she's the one who reached back and unhooked her bra, shrugging it off.

Then she tugged at his shirt, and Zane helped her, tossing the t shirt aside and only barely hearing the wet slap it makes on the concrete of the balcony. Jondy pressed up against him, flesh to flesh, body to body…

…_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…_

Wordlessly, Zane pulled Jondy after him, back inside the house, tripping over their empty plates and beer bottles. Millie slipped inside too, and vanishes, like she knew that Zane wanted some privacy.

They tumbled onto Zane's unmade bed together and her lips were against his and Zane realised that this was bound to happen, and he knew it would from the second he saw her climb off her motorcycle. Maybe it was his instincts, maybe it was hope and optimism or maybe it was some sort of sexual ESP that only X5s had.

He got the girl, why is he still thinking?

_What's your damage today?_

Jondy's soft body is pressed against his, her tangled, damp hair fanned crudely out on the pillow. She's sleeping peacefully. Zane's arms are wrapped around her waist, his face pressed against her neck and he relishes her scent. But he stays awake, listening to the rain and to Millie, having the time of her life chewing up the couch cushions.

He tightens his grip on Jondy and she nuzzles against him in sleep. He wonders if she's going to stay with him now and maybe work at the garage because Zane couldn't imagine Jondy holding down a waitress job. Maybe she could be a bartender? She'd be good at that.

Something is unsettling him and Zane closes his eyes, blaming the rain and Millie's loud molestation of his couch cushions.

He got the girl.


	3. Unworth

**Author's Notes: **Final chapter :)I hope you enjoyed it and I hope to have one of my new stories (standalones; and some Syl and Krit for Somebody's Dark Angel) posted soon - hopefully before my exams!

Thank you for reading and I hope you review.

* * *

Jondy woke up around seven the next morning, her legs supporting a dead weight. She lifted her head to see Millie curled up at the end of the bed, pinning both her legs and Zane's to the bed. She settled back next to Zane, his arm curled loosely around her stomach. She could close her eyes and feign sleep for a few hours, feeling safe and warm, or she could go in search of food. Dinner suddenly seemed like a long time ago.

As she slid out of bed, Zane's hand whipped out and caught her wrist, his eyes following every movement she made.

"I'm getting something to eat," she murmured, "I'm coming back." And to her own ears, the last part sounded hollow.

Zane nodded and closed his eyes, rolling over and going back to sleep. Jondy slipped out of bed, grabbing one of Zane's shirts as she walked into the kitchen. She could see the abandoned plates and bottles from last night's dinner abandoned on the balcony, along with her top and bra, and Zane's top. The sky was clearer now, and Jondy stared out as she made her way into the kitchen, eyeing the fridge. She'd have to clean up the leftovers from dinner that were still on the table later… tomorrow, because if it was up to her, Zane wouldn't be leaving the apartment. Jondy pulled open the fridge, and before she could have a coherent thought, a fist hit her in the side of her face, knocking her sideways and onto the floor.

Later on, she would wonder what would have happened if she didn't catch a pile of plates as she fell. Zane wouldn't have heard them shatter as they hit the floor and Jondy wouldn't have grunted in pain as the porcelain shards embedded themselves in her side.

And she would have been left to Ben.

He stood before her glowering, his eyes almost black in anger or desire or whatever emotion he was harbouring. Jondy stared up at him, her eyes wide with something akin to fear… but she also felt very, very numb.

"Jondy? Are you okay?" Zane appeared, doing his jeans up as he came. And he froze as he came upon the scene in the kitchen. Jondy knew there was blood on her cheek from where a shard of plate had caught her. But it wasn't her he was staring horrified at.

"You," Zane breathed, taking a step backwards. The man from the garage with the stolen Beemer was staring down at Jondy. "What the hell is going on?"

"Don't recognise me, big brother," Ben looked up at Zane, his green eyes sparkling with something that Zane didn't recognize; a glint that warned Zane off.

"What are you doing here, Ben?" Jondy's voice was steady but Zane looked at her; the fear, the hunted look in her eyes. Zane's eyes refocused on the man before him. Ben; the one who used to tell the X5s bedtime stories after lights out, the brother who used to catch animals during training exercises and let the smallest ones hold them.

"I found you," Ben smiled. "I tracked you all the way here." He sounded almost proud, like he expected Jondy to praise his efforts. "I was looking for you, Jondy."

Zane stared at the two of them, seeing the intimate look Ben shot Jondy, crouched against the cabinets. Ben's gaze travelled down Jondy's body, taking in the swell of her breasts under the shirt and her long, toned legs. Zane frowned as Ben smiled once again at Jondy.

Jondy stood up slowly, keeping her eyes on Ben. "Why did you come after me, Ben? I left you for a reason," she said slowly, as if she was trying to buy herself time.

"You ran off to tell Zack everything," Ben shrugged. "I thought maybe we could talk before you went to see big brother." His eyes glittered dangerously and Jondy unconsciously took a step back. Zane moved to get between Ben and Jondy but Ben stepped in front of him.

"Jondy and I have some unfinished business to settle," Ben said almost kindly, but his tone hardly mattered now. As far as Zane was considered, he'd threatened Jondy's life. Zane didn't move another inch, staring hard into Ben's eyes.

"Why don't you go and check on your dog?" Ben suggested, his voice too sweet and his eyes too innocent. Zane span on his foot and walked into the bedroom, where Millie lay. He'd thought she'd been too calm, lying heavily on the bed and his heart was in his throat as he touched her, expecting her to be dead and cold. But she lifted her head and gave a half hearted tail wag and Zane saw the strange angle of her paw. Ben had intentionally harmed his dog. Ben, who used to catch the animals back at Manticore.

"It'll be okay, girl," Zane says softly to his dog. "I'll call a vet for you. Get you all bandaged up."

Millie's ears pricked and she looked passed him, out to where Ben and Jondy were. Zane got the message and stood up, hanging in the doorway.

"You didn't tell him, did you?" Ben said in a conversational tone. "You didn't breathe a word, you just smiled prettily and let him undress you and then you spread your legs and didn't say anything." Zane flinched as Ben slammed his fist into the cabinet. "Whore."

"Ben…" Jondy said in a wobbly voice. "It was never like that…"

"You understood me, Jondy!" Ben yelled, pulling away. "You said you'd always be there for me and you're not. You're running off to tell Zack all about how bad you think I've been – when you _stabbed_ me – and let Zane think you're not spoken for."

"I'm not," Jondy straightened up. "I'm not; I was never in love with you, Ben. I said I'd be there for you because I am your sister. You're killing innocent people, Ben. I wanted Zack to help you."

"And instead, Zack got held up," Ben said simply. "I only hope Syl recovers okay."

And before Jondy could register what his words meant, Zane had Ben pinned by the throat to the fridge, Ben's feet dangling helplessly.

"What did you do to Syl?" Zane hissed. Ben spluttered a reply and Zane released his grip, his eyes cold.

"I see how you jump to the defence of your sisters, Zane," Ben croaked, his windpipe crushed. "And you like them in bed too… do you know how Jondy likes it?" Ben moved to Jondy's side and Jondy warily took a step back.

"I watched you, you know," Ben said solemnly, resting his hand on Jondy's shoulder. "I watched you undress your little sister, I watched you drag her into your bed and fumble at her body. Did it feel good for you? Because that's not the way she likes it, Zane…" Jondy jerked away from Ben's grasp as Zane's fist met Ben's face, his nose crumpling and spraying blood down his shirt.

"You're not worthy, Zane," Ben spat, attempting to wipe the blood from his face but only smearing it. "Jondy was worthy. Jondy was the best of all of us and you ruined her. She isn't worthy now."

And it was Jondy who swung the first punch, catching Ben in the temple. And Zane resisted the urge to pull Jondy out of Ben's reach and take on their brother himself. But before either could move, Ben reached into his jacket and drew out a knife.

And it was Jondy who ended up hurled against the fridge, her arm catching on the blade of Ben's knife as he leant down to finish whatever he arrived there to start. Zane grabbed Ben by the collar of his jacket and hurled him off Jondy and backwards…

They fell back against the kitchen counter and onto the floor, not before several well aimed blows found their target – from both men. Jondy flinched as she heard a bone crack and grabbed Ben's knife off the floor and jammed it downwards, catching the top part of Ben's arm. He hissed in pain and tried to recoil as Jondy and Zane picked themselves up off the kitchen floor.

"Get out, Ben," Zane spat. "Get out and I don't give a damn where you go. And stay the fuck away from the girls."

"The Blue Lady told me the girls are unworthy," Ben breathed, staring up at them. Jondy stared almost sadly down at him.

"There's no such thing as the Blue Lady, Ben," she whispered back. "She was just a comforting story to a bunch of scared little children, Ben. She's not real."

Ben pulled the knife from his arm, blood pooling on the floor beneath him and stood, favouring his left knee. He gave Jondy a kind look, an almost sympathetic look, before touching her cheek. "She's always with me, Jondy. She tells me who is worthy. And you aren't anymore."

And he turned and left, limping slowly and leaving bloody smears on the carpet behind him. Jondy bit her lip and watched him go; almost forgetting Zane was standing beside her.

"Jondy?" Zane said quietly, holding his right arm – dislocated by Ben in the scuffle. She turned around with a distant look in her eyes and he resisted the urge to step forward and take her into his arms – her hair was tangled around her face, there was a cut oozing blood on one cheek, and a smear of blood on the other where Ben touched her. The shirt she wore was ripped down from one shoulder, to her stomach, revealing the bruises marring her skin from where Ben had hurled her to one side. And the look on her face was one of guilt and sadness.

"Are you okay?" her eyes focused on his arm hanging at an awkward angle.

"I will be as soon as you put my shoulder back in it's socket," Zane said with a grin, but it fell flat. "I'll need to fix Millie up too. He did something to her paw." Jondy looked away as Zane's expression darkened in anger. She should've known Ben would come after her. She wasn't safe with Lydecker on one side and Ben on the other. And she'd gotten Zane hurt too.

'He would have killed you if Zane hadn't been here,' she chided herself silently. 'Zane saved your life and he got hurt in the process.'

Jondy sidled up to Zane. "Ready?" she said, keeping her face and voice free of emotion and trying to keep her hands steady. And when Zane nodded, she slid his shoulder back into the socket with an unnerving cracking noise and pulled back.

"Are you okay?" Zane grabbed her hand and pulled her back up against him.

"I'll be in the shower," Jondy said quietly, looking down. "You should patch up Millie." And she slipped into the bathroom, not locking the bathroom door and hoped Zane would come in after her.

The lukewarm water felt good as she scrubbed her face free of blood and suffocated her senses with the smell of shampoo and soap. She felt wetness on her face but it was the water from the shower rather than tears. Tears of grief and regret and fear.

She didn't remember how long she stood under the water and she didn't notice the water turning cold and she barely noticed as Zane slipped into the bathroom and stripped off his pants, climbing in behind her and taking the soap from her.

She felt his hands on her body and leant back against his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured into her ear, on hand snaking around her waist.

"I didn't want to think about it," Jondy murmured back, closing her eyes. "I was hoping he'd just leave me alone." Zane's hands left soapy trails down her stomach, dipping lower. Jondy bit her lip, relaxing against him.

"We need to talk," she twisted her arms back around his neck.

"We do," Zane pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Later."

Jondy sighed in Zane's arms as he kissed the water away from her face and turned off the now-cold water and carried her to bed, where they could both put everything out of their minds for awhile. And maybe Zane was gentler than the night before, and maybe Jondy clung to him harder and maybe neither of them wanted to sleep later because they could smell the blood from the kitchen and hear Millie's uneven gait.

Zane was the first one to wake, late afternoon. It had been a fitful nap; he kept hearing the apartment creak and he worried Ben was back to finish off their so-called unworthy asses.

He struggled into some jeans and a clean shirt and slipped into the kitchen. Blood had congealed on the lino and the broken plates seemed old and not quite so sharp anymore. He didn't move for awhile, just stood there and stared at the blood and the broken plates and thought of the girl dozing in his bed.

_How did this happen again?_

"Zane," Jondy padded out, wrapped in one of his clean t shirts and a pair of his old boxers. Her hair swung loose and she twisted the silver bracelets around her hand. "Are you okay?"

Zane ignored her and knelt down to pick up the plate. "You're going to leave, aren't you?" he said coolly, as if his heart wasn't pounding, waiting for her answer. "You're going to go to Zack and then move on. And the odds of you coming back to find me…" He turned around, his face a mask of hurt. "You could have told me you loved him and you were leaving."

Jondy knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder, staring at the shard of plate in his hand. "I didn't tell you I loved him because I didn't… not even as a brother by the end," she said flatly. "I was running scared and I wanted to be with someone I trusted."

"You didn't have to… I would have kept you safe no matter what," Zane replied, gazing at the plate.

"I know that," Jondy slid her arm around his neck and leant against him. "And I am going to leave and find Zack and check on Syl. I'm going to tell Zack everything from the beginning about me and Ben and you and me and what happened. And then I'll come back." Her lips brushed against his neck as Zane looped an arm around her waist.

"You're coming back?"

"If you wait around for me," she said with a grin reminiscent of only days ago. "I'll have to get a job at a local bar and stuff, but if you want me here, I'm here."

Zane cupped her cheek and nodded. "I do want you here," he murmured. "What'll Zack say?"

Jondy smiled mischievously. "We'll have to ask Syl and Krit, but I hear being cut off is the best thing in the world."

And she kissed him.

_Such a pretty picture that you paint… I'm so vile while you're a saint._


End file.
